


Ginger Ale

by literati42



Category: The Good Cop (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Can be read as Pre-TJ/Cora, Friendship, Gen, TJ has OCD, TJ has a lot of self-hate, TJ needs a hug, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 14:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literati42/pseuds/literati42
Summary: It all seemed simple. Not drinking was just another one of Mr. Perfect's rules, but then Cora starts to realize that everyone else is in on a secret she is not.





	Ginger Ale

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-story announcement! Myself and the other members of the Good Conspirators are hosting a Winter Good Cop fanfiction challenge! Check out the details at thegoodchallenge.tumblr.com
> 
> Story notes:  
> This story deals with mental health (I maintain that TJ has OCD) and alcohol abuse.
> 
> The story is set directly after episode 8. 
> 
> Otherwise? I have several requests to write and a new chapter to post but for some reason this story popped into my head instead. Truly it was born from one moment in episode 8 where Tony gives TJ this odd look and then...here we are!
> 
> As always so many thank yous to the Good Conspirators! You all continue to be my muses. If you want to come join in on our discussions, let me know in the comments!

TJ walked into the living room, taking the bottle off the table. His father made eye contact with him. “It’s for Cora,” TJ said quickly.  
They exchanged a few more words, but TJ’s mind was wandering. He needed to get back to Cora. Now was not the time to follow the path this moment was leading him on. He walked into the kitchen and poured a drink for Cora. He left her there drinking from the tumbler, gathering a Ginger Ale for himself. He looked up to see Tony watching him, but his father quickly looked away.  
_-_-_  
They were playing poker a few days later. Cora still looked pale, but she was throwing herself into the game. Maybe a bit too hard. She was bluffing poorly and reading people even worse. With each lost hand, she seemed to be growing in annoyance. Tony was, in true Tony the Tiger fashion, taking advantage of the rare moment when he was beating her. Burl played his hands moderately, meaning he rarely won but also rarely lost much. TJ was playing with a complete lack of subtlety, like usual. Ryan sat on a bar stool, causing his frame to slightly hover over them as he observed the game. He liked to show up and watch, though he did not gamble because it “seemed rude.”   
“I raise,” Cora said. She pulled out her wallet and frowned at the lack of bills.  
“With what?” Tony challenged, enjoying this far too much.  
“Don’t take credit huh?” She glanced around, “With…I’ll buy the next round for everyone if I lose.”   
“That really doesn’t seem like a legal bet,” TJ said with a frown.  
“You're on,” Tony said as if he had not spoken.   
“Well, I am not going to play if we are ignoring the rules, fold,” TJ said.  
Soon after, Burl folded as well, leaving Tony and Cora locked in a battle of wills. TJ shook his head as he watched his father take full advantage of the situation. Cora stood up, cursing, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling. TJ watched her, wondering if he should ask if she was okay but deducing that the answer would likely be the same as last time (“I wish everyone would stop asking me that!”).   
“What’s everyone drinking?”  
She pointed to each man, getting their orders. She paused for a moment on Ryan’s “purple nurple” but then shook her head and looked at TJ. “Ginger ale? You sure? I’m buying so you could spring for something harder.” TJ gave an awkward shake of the head.  
“I’ll uh…help you carry them.” He stood, ignoring the look his father exchanged with Burl. Cora shrugged as they walked to the bar.  
“One drink is not an infraction, Mr. Perfect,” she said, her teasing had a bit of an edge, but TJ shrugged this off. She was having a rough week.  
“I’m not perfect.”   
“No, but damn near it,” she said. She gave their order, then turned to lean back on the bar. “You don’t have to help me. I can carry them.”  
“It’s five drinks, it will be better if I help.”  
“Cards, drinking, carrying drinks. Anything you haven’t made rules for?”  
“Are you angry with me, Cora?”  
“No. Yes. No.” Cora let out a long breath, downing her drink when it arrived and motioning for a second. “If I’m honest. Your Mr. Perfect routine is a little much to handle when I’m this much of a mess.”  
“You’re not a mess, Cora,” he said, frowning.  
“Yeah? I almost got killed by a man I decided to marry after knowing him for a hot second. I almost let him frame an innocent man. Meanwhile, you pegged him for the culprit immediately. You knew, and even though I shouted at you, you pursued it for me. You saved my life.” She took a long drag from her glass. “I can’t imagine being as put together as you are. I mean, swear jar. Boy scout badges.” She tapped her finger against his Ginger Ale. “You don’t even drink.” She raised her hand, gesturing. “I wish you’d just fall apart and stop making us all look bad.”   
TJ looked down at the floor, tilting his head in that awkward way he often did. “Nobody is perfect, Cora.” He gave her a tight smile and headed out the door. 

Cora watched him go, closing her eyes. She should have known not to try to banter tonight. Her emotions were too raw, too ready to lash out. Like always, when she lashed, it was TJ that received it. Patiently, without retaliating. She opened her eyes as she felt someone move into the space TJ just vacated. Ryan started collecting the drinks. “The Lieutenant said he was helping you carry these, but he left so I figured you still needed help though.”  
“Yeah, I think I just ran him off.” She ran a hand through her hair.  
“You shouldn’t tease the Lieutenant about the drinking,” Ryan said.  
“What? Why the drinking?”  
Ryan’s mouth moved without anything coming out. “It’s not my place.”  
He hustled back to the table. Cora watched him go and then caught Tony’s look. He was staring at the door TJ went out with a frown on his face that looked more paternal worry than the usual devil-may-care Tony she was used to.   
Cora felt her detective instinct sparking. She stepped out the door, pulling her cellphone to call TJ. A ring sounded to her right. She turned, finding him leaning against the wall. She hung up and met his eyes. “I thought you went home.”  
“I just needed some air.”  
She pulled the jacket tighter around her and went over, leaning on the wall beside him. “I’m not really mad at you.”  
“I know.” He looked at her, “You’re allowed to be angry.”  
“Oh, you have a rule that allows that too?” He cringed slightly, and she immediately felt guilty. “Sorry…”  
“No, I…” TJ sighed. “Wish people wouldn’t hold on to this idea that I’m perfect.”  
“It’d be easier if you did something wrong once and a while.”  
“Like pee in the shower?”  
“Yeah, like pee in the shower.”  
He shook his head. “It’s hard, that people think I’m…good. We’re not so different. I just have…more rules to keep it in check.”  
“To keep what?”  
“The mess.”  
Cora looked at him, with his hair perfectly in place. His shirt pressed, but his eyes clouded with thoughts. “TJ. What’s with the drinking?”  
He looked surprised, but it faded fast. “You’re a good detective, Cora.” He leaned his head back so he could look up at the cloud. “My father used to drink. I mean, really drink. Everything in excess, that’s my father.” He shook his head, “He would come home, still slurring his words and smelling like cheap perfume.” Cora looked at him in surprise.  
“So, your mom knew about the whole…reason I can’t get your Dad a job,” she said, putting it as mildly as she could.  
“The other women? Yeah. Everyone knew.” TJ looked at her, “My father never met a rule he wouldn’t cheat. And when he was drunk, that included vows. I swore I wouldn’t be like him.”  
“So you decided never to drink?”  
TJ shook his head, “No. I stayed to the rules. I didn’t drink until I was 21.”  
She straightened up and looked at him. “TJ Caruso, are you telling me you have drunk adult beverages?”  
“When it became legal, yes.”  
“What happened?”  
“At first? Nothing. I wasn’t that impressed with it. Anyway, I was busy working my beat.” His voice seemed to darken. “Then, my Dad went to prison. Life as a cop with that in the background? It wasn’t great. Then my mom died.” TJ stopped here, focusing past emotion. “And I got drunk. It felt good. It took away the pain. I woke up the next morning, and I realized exactly why people lose themselves in a bottle.”  
“TJ, getting drunk one time…”  
TJ shook his head. “It’s in my blood.” Cora shook her head. “And…it became a way to get through.”  
“What?”  
TJ pulled out a coin and handed it to her. She turned it over in her hand. “Three years sober.”  
“Yes, Cora. I am not a good person. I am every one of my father’s flaws waiting to burst out.” He pointed back toward the bar, “The rules are what keeps me from becoming him.” He shook his head, “I told you. I’m not a day at Disneyland either.”  
“TJ, I had no idea…”  
“It was a short time in my life. But it taught me how easily all of this could fall apart.”  
Cora watched him, thinking over the looks inside. The words Ryan said.  
“Burl and Ryan know?”  
“They helped me get through it.”  
Her eyes widened slightly as the conclusions drew inside her mind. “That’s why whenever you pour me a drink you tell your father it’s for me. Like that time at your house…”  
TJ nodded, “He might not be sober himself, but he has always supported my sobriety.”   
Cora was silent a moment, as her mind rearranged her image of the man in front of her. When he shifted uncomfortably, she brought her focus back to the moment. “You know, being sober three years doesn’t make you a mess. It makes you strong. The reason you’re different from your father isn’t these rules. It’s that you even care that you made mistakes. The fact that you want to change, that’s the part of you that is entirely different from Tony.” She reached over slowly and squeezed his arm. He turned to look at her, and their faces were unexpectedly close. She stared up into his hurting eyes and then stepped back. “We’re um…family right?”   
“Yeah. Big dysfunctional family.”  
“You know, I’m glad you told me this. It makes you less…formidable. Even if you don’t pee in the shower.”  
TJ laughed, the tension built up in their conversation releasing slowly. “It’s not my only flaw.”  
“No?”  
“I can’t sing.”  
“You’re kidding.”  
“Not a note.”  
“I think I need to be the judge of that.”  
“Never.”  
“Not a note, huh?” she asked, smiling at him.  
“Not a single note.”


End file.
